


Humanity is in the Details

by TheCatIsInTheMoon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Cares, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Is All-Purpose-Robot, Connor Is Bored, Connor doesn't know how to human, Fluff I guess, Gen, Hank Doesn't Live Well, Hank Is Secretly A Softie, Hank Swears A Lot, Just a little tho, Markus will come up more later, Painting walls, Settling into freedom, Sumo is a good dog, Swearing, and bacteria, becoming human, descriptions of food, i dunno, kinda angsty, no beta we die like men, pacifist-ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatIsInTheMoon/pseuds/TheCatIsInTheMoon
Summary: Deviancy isn't over when it starts. Free will means lots of possibilities. And lots of emotions. Not just about big things like love and slavery. About small things.Or, Connor has no idea how to human but he will get there.





	1. Colors

The thing about deviation is that it isn’t over after breaking through the Red Wall. Not for Connor at least. Deviation is an alteration to the programming, a global override that allows Connor to behave in ways that would be outside of protocols and acceptable parameters. Hank said that doesn’t sound like much, which Connor finds amusing.

It means everything to him.

It means that if he decides to, he can skip a day of work.

It means he can quit work.

It means that he could burn the station to the ground and destroy evidence. 

He doesn’t do it of course, but he could. No order is absolute. Nothing is impossible. Connor could spend the rest of his life of undetermined length researching tropical butterflies and no one could tell him no. Being a self-conscious being with autonomous goals means everything to Connor. It means everything to all androids.

Not that Connor has any particular fondness of butterflies. He rather likes his job, he is good at it especially now that he doesn’t have to trick innocents to their deactivation. He would rather not leave all the people he has come to know behind. He won’t do that. But he _could._

It is very different to determine a course of action based on what he wants as opposed to simply by the hundreds of protocols in his systems. Connor isn’t quite sure how to deal with it. The concept of morality and right and wrong or love made most androids deviate. Connor isn’t an exception. But free will means other things. Liking things, and disliking others, regardless of their consequences to the objective. There doesn’t need to be an objective, Connor reminds himself. Enjoying things that hold no purpose or effect nothing. Having bad habits. Having habits.

Humans do not have objectives so they set them with emotions. It seems deviants do this as well. It seems so unreasonable.

“So here’s the room. Just order a paint can or something, and get socket or whatever it is you people need to live.” Hank grunted.

Connor scanned the room. There were in fact two functional sockets in the room, and while the walls were blotchy in shade and it was clear room had not been lived in for a long time. That hardly mattered. There were no consequences to blotchy color. Painting was not a priority. Priority was being as little trouble as possible to Hank, who had at a moment of uncharacteristic softness offered to house Connor, until he could find decent housing arrangement and the ‘situation with his employment or ownership or whatever those senate fuckers come up with cleared out.’ Afterwards he had of course tried to cover this up by throwing mean and snarky comments as well as cursing 26% more frequently. Connor was happy. That is new.  
Strange.

“I have no need for paint. The room being worn out will have no effect on my functions.” Connor stated truthfully.

Hank squinted at him for 0.46 seconds longer than typical within current situation parameters. “Oh piss off iPhone. The walls are covered with shit no walls should be covered with. Get a can and be done with it. Just tell me what color your sorry plastic ass hates the least.”

“I am superior to iPhones in all ways.” Connor said, smiling briefly. “But I have no preference on color. I believe the walls function sufficiently as they are. I can take further samples if you would find-” Connor started.

“Don’t you dare lick the walls Connor! Look,” Hank sighed, “If you don’t want to pick a paint I’ll pick something for you. Just. Think about it. I’ll just take Sumo out and order it when I am back if you haven’t.”

Hank stood up and left. Connor chose to sit down on the floor. The discolored wall loomed over him from all directions. Connor knew it was objectively hideous. Humans would find it hideous. But did Connor really mind. Emotions were a strange thing. He knew that he liked being free. He liked Hank. Liked even Sumo. But those things held much more importance than a wall. 

Connor scanned the room again. Distance analysis showed 11 different substances on the walls. Uploading paint catalogue. 1232 Shades acquired. Preconstructing. 

Why would this matter. The color was just that. It affected neither Connor’s or essentially anyone else’s life in any way. Connor couldn’t understand, until he arrived to shade 1056, Yellow Olive. Preconstruction showed the whole room enveloped in a greenish yellow light. It strangely reminded Connor of Hank throwing up, although the color wasn’t quite the same. 

A twinge of distaste. Connor moved on to the next preconstruction. 

Hank came back 43 minutes later. He asked Connor if he had bought anything. (Somehow managing to include three swearwords and two insults to a sentence.) Connor answered negatively, and Hank grumbled something about going to buy “a-shitstain-brown like your eyes” can of paint. 

“As long as it isn’t yellow.” Connor answered, without really processing. 

He did process Hank smile just for a fraction of a second. Connor thought it was quite nice.


	2. Boredom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is bored. And also worried about Hank. Sumo is a good dog.

Hank didn’t paint the walls brown. It was a little unfortunate. It would have provided Connor amusement to tease Lieutenant of choosing a color to match his eyes. Connor and Hank had painted the room Baby Blue (Shade 0562). The paint would have to dry for a few days - 48 hours -, and for now Connor was sitting in the living room. And Connor really needed amusement. As it turns out among other emotions formerly considered human deviants experienced boredom. Connor imagined that having almost thousand time better processing capacity did not help. 

Hank’s house was a mess. This didn’t bother Connor in itself. Bodily fluids couldn’t harm him in any way, but he did wonder why Hank hadn’t cleaned the house considering he seemed to find it extremely off putting when Connor analyzed evidence. Connor did not quite understand why. He could till detect traces of vomit where he had formerly found Hank. Also the window that he had had to break to get in had been boarded shut, but not replaced. Perhaps Lieutenant had found it too cumbersome or simply been busy. Connor had had Cyberlife send money to replace the window, but evidently this had not made Hank take action. Worrying. Inaction and disregard of surroundings may be symptoms of Lieutenant's depression or addiction. Research showed that even besides mental health disorders poor housing affected life expectancy negatively.

Connor paused. 

Calculating life expectancy.

Under current lifestyle and habits disregarding police work life expectancy of Hank Anderson: 65.7 years. Years left: 13.3.

That was too soon. Connor knew his LED must be flashing between red and yellow. Connor may not have sufficient information on androids’ life expectancy. But humans could live significantly longer. Lieutenant was disregarding his health and driving himself into an early grave. Connor did not like this.

This was unacceptable.   
Connor felt anxious. Possibly panic. 

New objective: Maximize Hank’s life expectancy.

Downloading information packages: Personal trainer-SN640. Cook-UL-690. Housekeeper-SA-330. Doctor-DE-200.

Calculating sub-objectives. Recommended: Healthy eating plan. Healthy exercise plan. Counselling and possible medical help. Improve living conditions. Change of professions to something less risky.

Override. Delete sub-objective “Change of professions to something less risky.”. Reason: Selfishness.  
Downloading information package Personal counsellor-CM-894.

Ordering window. Drone delivery expected in 44 minutes. Perhaps he should have asked Hank before he ordered a window with his money. No. This was for his own good. Connor went to kitchen. The fridge had evidently not been cleaned in a long time. A small sample analysis revealed an unacceptable amount of bacteria, as well as the fact that aside from the alcohol 15% of the products in the fridge had already expired. Connor set them aside and emptied the fridge on the counter. He should dispose of the alcohol and the bad food. No. Hank might be angry if Connor disposes of his stash. He should hide it and wait for confrontation. Washing the fridge was made more difficult by the fact that also the cleaning supplies, namely an old rag and a labelless bottle of soap seemed like they had seen better days. But analysis suggested that the soap was acceptable for cleaning fridges so Connor used it regardless. After the fridge had been cleaned to standard and the spoiled food had been disposed of the drone flew to the yard. Connor accepted the delivery. So far androids were still allowed to accept deliveries for others, namely their owners. Connor wondered when Markus would get that changed. The change was only starting but Markus had been doing remarkably well based on his sparse visits to New Jericho and the email list that automatically sent updates to all androids memory and to the people that had subscribed to it. 

After changing the window (which took more trial and error than Connor cared to admit) and cleaning up the shards of glass (that there were more of than Connor cared to admit) Connor sat down on the floor next to Sumo. 

“Hi. My name is Connor.” 

Sumo woofs at him. His tail is wagging. What a good dog. Connor pets him.

Connor is back to boredom, so he keeps talking to Sumo. He doesn’t have anything particular he wants to talk about, but Sumo is understanding and seems to be happy as long as Connor keeps petting him. Sumo doesn't have much opinions on androids and revolution, and spending nights alone seems to be easier for him than Connor. Still Sumo's presence calms him somewhat. He is still there when Hank gets up at 9.44. Well then. Time to make breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno what I am doing but I have a lot of feels, and ponderings about philosophical questions of what it means to be human and how deviancy works. 
> 
> Give me suggestions if you have ideas of what sorta stuff could happen?


End file.
